


What the Fork?

by too_addicted_to_fiction



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/too_addicted_to_fiction/pseuds/too_addicted_to_fiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew Bellamy liked to be the little spoon? Or, the time that those mushrooms had some strange side effects... Bellarke one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Fork?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clementinemarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clementinemarch/gifts).



> A/N: This is a gift-fic to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FELLOW BELLARKE LOVER, SB!! Love you ;) I also have to thank my friend clementinemarch for adding tons of flavor to the Bellarke-ness. She's the best, and it's a little spicier than my normal writing, so you have her to thank for that! And finally, this was inspired by some lovely Twitter friends based on the prompt "Bellamy as little spoon" and the title "what the fork." You ladies rock. Now, without further ado, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own THE 100 or its characters.

**What the Fork?**

 

“Are you _sure_ you remember what Monty said?” Clarke asked for what must have been the fiftieth time.

 

The 100 had been on the ground for a few days now, and while Monty worked on getting the radios working, he had given Jasper instructions for what plants they could and could not eat. Clarke scowled. Why did their one engineer have to also be the only person also knowledgeable in agro?

 

“I got this, Clarke,” Jasper nodded. His sureness in himself did nothing to alleviate Clarke’s nerves, and she sighed.

 

“Lighten up, Princess. If you ask Goggles if he remembers one more time, I’m gonna assume the radiation has gone to your head.”

 

Behind her, Clarke heard giggles. Several of the younger girls had decided to come on this trip to help, and Clarke had a pretty good idea why. Clarke turned and glared at the source of the voice.

 

Bellamy Blake crossed his arms in front of his chest, smirking at her, stance full of confidence and swagger. Around him, three 13-year-old girls smiled in adoration. It was pretty clear Bellamy’s _whatever the hell we want_ attitude and (she grudgingly admitted) natural good looks had endeared himself to the younger members of the 100, and especially those of the female persuasion.

 

“Why are you here again?” Clarke muttered.

 

Clarke heard him huff out a laugh behind her, and she startled as he seemed to be right behind her, mouth close to her ear. “ _Because_ , Clarke, your boyfriend agreed to help Monty, but he didn’t seem too keen on you running off by yourself,” Bellamy drawled.

 

He was talking about Finn, of course. Finn, who had decided to lend a hand because of a slight familiarity with some of the tools that Monty was using; something about how he knew one of the Ark’s mechanics. Whatever the case, Clarke rolled her eyes. She knew Finn knew she could take care of herself, and his concern was touching, but when he’d asked that one of the hunters accompany Clarke’s group, she was pretty sure he didn’t mean Bellamy Blake.

 

Or his posse of adoring teenage girls.

 

“Clarke!” Jasper called. Clarke stalked up to him, determined not to let Bellamy get to her. “These are them.”

 

As they rounded the crest of the hill, Clarke saw a clearing full of brown mushrooms with white spots. Bellamy came to stand beside her. “Now what?”

 

“I guess we collect them. Later we can boil them down – “

 

“Or just eat them raw,” Jasper said, chewing on a mushroom.

 

“Jasper! You shouldn’t be eating that. We don’t know if we can eat these raw or not,” Clarke said, already inwardly debating what the best course of action should be.

 

“Monty said it’s fine,” Jasper said, swallowing and studying the mushroom cap closely. “Tastes pretty good!”

 

Clarke found herself looking over her shoulder to meet Bellamy’s eyes. Bellamy shrugged. “If Monty says so…”

 

“I guess,” Clarke said. “Well, let’s start collecting.”

 

For several minutes, they collected in silence. It was kind of nice, actually. Clarke hadn’t really had much time to herself since they’d crashed down here. She’d spent most of her time just trying to keep them alive, and keep them organized. They’d managed to collect water, and the hunters had brought back some meat, but Clarke’s stomach growled as she glanced at her cache of mushrooms. The 100 would be happy to eat these, later.

 

Clarke bent down to grab a particularly large mushroom, and her hand accidentally brushed another hand there. Bellamy. She yanked her hand away quickly, muttering, “Sorry.”

 

One side of Bellamy’s mouth quirked upwards. “Jumpy, Princess.” Her stomach growled, and he raised an eyebrow. “And hungry?”

 

Clarke’s face burned. “So?”

 

Bellamy looked up, seeing Jasper and the younger girls all chewing the mushrooms as they collected. He looked down at the mushroom in his hands, and then he held it out to Clarke. “Eat.”

 

“What? No. We’re supposed to be bringing these back to camp.”

 

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but they aren’t gonna notice one less mushroom.” When she still didn’t move to take it, Bellamy raised it to his mouth and took a bite himself. He let out a small, satisfied moan. “Hmm. Pretty good.”

 

Clarke’s stomach growled again, louder this time, and Clarke watched him finish off the mushroom. She bent down, picking another. Maybe just one wouldn’t hurt… She slowly raised it to her mouth, taking a bite.

 

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and couldn’t help but groan as she took another bite. It was so tasty! She quickly finished it off, eating one more. Next to her, Bellamy ate a second as well.

 

“See? Nothing bad happened. Learn to relax a little, Princess,” Bellamy said.

 

Feeling full and pleasantly content for the first time in a while, Clarke continued to pick mushrooms, putting them into her bag. She smiled as she felt the sun shining through the trees, and she began to feel light and fuzzy.

 

Wait, what? Light and fuzzy? Clarke looked at her hand, flexing her fingers. Something very strange was going on.

 

“Wheeeee!” Clarke immediately turned towards Jasper’s excited whoop as he grabbed a low-hanging branch, swinging his feet from it. Nearby, the younger girls giggled as they watched him.

 

Clarke looked to the side to see Bellamy. He was watching Jasper through narrowed eyes, and Clarke could see that his group on his pack was extremely tight. “What the – “

 

“Fork!” Clarke blurted out, trying to cover up Bellamy’s bad language in front of the gaggle of teenagers now staring at Bellamy. They all looked flushed and dazed, and when one of them dropped a mushroom, Clarke immediately began sifting through her bag, grabbing one.

 

“What the fork?” Bellamy was asking her, clearly confused. “What… is what the fork?”

 

Clarke ignored him in favor of grabbing Jasper’s ankle, pulling him down from the tree. He flopped down gracelessly, but he immediately bounced back up, hand grabbing Clarke’s shoulder. “Clarke! I feel _great_!”

 

“Jasper, think carefully. What did Monty tell you to collect?”

 

“Mushrooms.”

 

Bellamy had joined them at this point. “How did he describe them?” Clarke persisted.

 

“Brown and white, with polkadots.”

 

Clarke looked down at the mushrooms.  These were brown with white spots. “Brown with white spots, or white with brown spots?”

 

“Uhhh…” Jasper began, unsure. “Um. I don’t remember.”

 

“Jasper!”

 

“Are you –“ (“Forking!” Clarke interjected loudly) “kidding me?” Bellamy ground out, grabbing Jasper’s jacket collar. “You pointed out the wrong mushrooms?!”

 

Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s arm, forcing him away from Jasper. “Well _you’re_ the one who said he had it. And anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it now, other than try to throw it up.”

 

Clarke suddenly became hyper-aware of her hand on Bellamy’s arm. She knew that she should remove it, but for some reason the skin-on-skin contact seemed too delicious to pass up. Instead, she looked up at him.

 

He seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he kept glancing from her eyes to her hand, but he made no attempt to move away from her. “Clarke?” he said, voice hoarse.

 

Had it gotten incredibly warm out here in the last few minutes? Clarke looked around, seeing the teenage girls rolling around on the ground, laughing, while Jasper continued to whoop and dart around the clearing, occasionally doing inelegant jumps. Clarke looked back at Bellamy.

 

How had she never noticed how brown his eyes were? Or how long his lashes were? The wind stirred his hair, and she found her other hand reaching up to touch it. Bellamy didn’t move, but his eyes followed her hand. His hair was coarse and unruly, and Clarke found that she enjoyed touching it.

 

Bellamy’s hand reached up, grabbing her own from his head. He didn’t relinquish his hold, though, as he hoarsely spoke, “Clarke?”

 

Hearing her name from his mouth rather than the nickname _Princess_ seemed to have a strange affect, and before she knew it, Clarke had leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. Distantly, in the back of her mind, the medic in her realized she should probably be trying to deal with the effects from the mushroom.

 

But as Bellamy’s other hand came around her waist and he pulled her closer, Clarke dropped her bag of mushrooms and realized she didn’t really care.

 

He pulled her into him, and the hand that had been holding the mushrooms found its way to his chest. Under the hard muscle she felt his heart beating, fast and strong against her palm.

 

"You have a heart, Bellamy," she said, and looked up into his eyes, and then giggled. "Who knew?!"

 

He laughed, too, and then they were both laughing even as his grip tightened on her waist and her hand flattened against his chest. Mushrooms or no mushrooms, the guy's body was perfect. 

 

Was there a reason this was bad idea? If there was, surely the way his breath hitched under her touch and was a better one. She moved her hand down, down his chest and the ridges of his stomach, and then finally below his waistband. His laughter abruptly ceased. He angled his face towards hers.

 

"Clarke," he breathed, "Holy--"

 

"Holy fork!" She interjected, and then felt herself falling to the ground, his hands behind her as they together rolled into a tall clump of grass. His mouth was on hers suddenly, hot and insistent, and she found herself wanting more. The solid weight of him was above her, anchoring her to the earth, and maybe it was the mushrooms and the fresh air, but Clarke felt free, in a way she hadn't in ages. Maybe in forever.

He was above her and kissing her, and Clarke shuddered as his head dropped to her neck and he kissed her chin and jawline and the hollow of her throat. He was hard, against her, and she angled herself up and pressed herself into him, relished in the way he groaned with the contact. Her hand found its way back to his waistband. She tried to undo his belt but her fingers were slow, and he yanked it off for her before undoing the button on her own pants.

 

He was faster than her, maybe less affected by the mushrooms, and before she had time to wonder about pulling off his shirt his fingers were pushing aside her underwear and then they were against her, rubbing, curling into her. It was exquisite. The tension unfurled deep within her like a match struck into tendrils of flames, like nothing she'd ever felt before. He buried two fingers within her and brushed her with his thumb, back and forth, and she forgot all about the people on the other side of the grass.

 

"Fuck, Bellamy!" she said.

 

"Fork," he corrected her, and smirked in a way that made her stomach flip over. And then his lips were on hers again, his tongue in her mouth and his fingers still working her under her pants. She reached between them and underneath his shorts, wrapped her fingers around his length and stroked him. He groaned her name--her real name--into her neck, and that combined with the movement of his fingers brought her over the edge, her body tensing and then shaking as his fingers stayed stabilized between her jerking hips, bringing her through it. The mushrooms may have affected her sense of time, but it was only a minute before Bellamy followed, coming and collapsing into her with a shuddering exhale.

 

They both lay like that for a minute (or maybe an hour), Bellamy still on top of her in the tall grass and Clarke more relaxed than she had ever been.

 

And sleepier, too. This would actually be a great spot for a nap.

 

* * *

 

 “How cute,” a snide voice said, followed by two more sets of deep chuckles.

 

Clarke’s brows drew together as she began to wake up, hearing this.

 

“Who knew big bad Bellamy liked to be the little spoon,” said another voice, one that Clarke realized belonged to John Murphy. Her eyes flew open, and she realized she was looking at the back of someone’s head.

 

The back of Bellamy Blake’s head, to be precise. She quickly tried to extricate her limbs from his, but she was wrapped entirely around him, one of her legs between his and her arms slung around his torso. Clarke looked up to see Murphy, Miller, and Sterling looking down at them.

 

In front of her, Bellamy groaned. “Wha’ happened?”

 

Noticing their position, he quickly scrambled up, dusting himself up. Clarke sat on the ground, blinking, remembering what happened only when she looked down at her forgotten bag of mushrooms. Nearby, Jasper snored loudly, while the teenage girls seemed slumped against each other on the edge of the clearing.

 

“Looks like you two were having a snuggle fest,” Murphy snickered. Sterling and Miller knew better than to piss of Bellamy, but they looked like they were having trouble containing their mirth.

 

Surprisingly, Bellamy didn’t look pissed off. Instead, he extended his hand down, helping Clarke up. She accepted, and standing, her face grew red as she noticed a mark on Bellamy’s neck. _A hickey_. Had she given that to him?

 

Miller seemed to see the same thing. “Hey man, what’s that?” He looked at Clarke. “You have a few too, Clarke.”

 

Clarke’s mortification grew, but Bellamy smoothly recovered. “We ate these mushrooms. They taste good, but they’re weird. Must be some sort of reaction. We’ll have to check with Monty when we’re back. For now, these won’t work for food. We’ll have to go hunting later.”

 

Miller nodded. Murphy was already heading towards Jasper, intent on waking him, while Sterling gently nudged the girls awake. Within minutes, they were heading back to camp. Clarke kept her head down, feeling embarrassed as she touched her slightly swollen lips.

 

Bellamy came up beside her, and she put her hand down, but it was too late. “So that’s what a shrooms trip is like.”

 

“It’s not funny, Bellamy. That was really irresponsible of us. And we can just forget about what happened.”

 

Bellamy didn’t respond right away, but a few seconds later, he slipped his hand into hers. Surprised, Clarke looked up at him. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll remember that you like to be big spoon, Clarke Griffin.”

 

After one last heated smirk, Bellamy let go of her hand and walked ahead to talk with Miller. And Clarke realized that he was right: she probably wouldn’t be forgetting this anytime soon.


End file.
